LOLA

 

I'm waiting on the bed, waiting for Zach to come out of the shower. Waiting for everything and waiting for nothing. I'm still wrapped in nothing more than a towel and my body is still damp from the shower I took just prior to him hopping in.

My hair is slick and wet and it sits flat against my back. I'm staring at the mirror ahead, staring at my own reflection as I reflect on the day’s events. For months, I had carefully constructed the demise of my father and all of his associates. And now everything seems to be hanging by a thread. Everything I've worked so hard for might be for naught, my plans might be flushed down the toilet. It's all slipping away from my grasp and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to salvage the plan.

It gives me a little hope knowing that Richard probably thinks I'm dead. In that regard, I imagine he will use the planned event to turn the tides in his favor. He will come out swinging with the truth that up until the previous night my father was actually still alive. He’ll probably even stand at the podium, telling stories about how either Zach or I pulled the trigger—a story that I think he believes in his own crazy mind.

There will be nobody left to take the reins of my father’s company. Since both his wife and his two daughters are presumed dead. Little does Richard know that I'm not dead. And if he shows up at that event as planned, the event that I'm still fully prepared to blow them up at, then he’ll finally get what’s been coming to him for a while.

I had known from the very beginning that Zach was a security professional, but I had never realized the scope of the security team he works for. I guess I just thought it was something a little bit smaller. I thought it was something a little more manageable.

I never expected for him to have these resources available at his disposal. And I wonder once this is all over if I will have a place in his life. I wonder if that's even something I will want once the rubble settles.

I spent so much time thinking about him in the time I was hiding away in the Hollywood hills. I thought about all of the ways that I betrayed his trust and all of the ways I almost ruined his life forever. I thought about the fact that it was my actions that almost got him killed and that was something I could never quite live with.

Zach is no saint in this world, but he is an immovable force of good. He's the kind of person I wish I had always been. The kind of person who would sacrifice themselves to save the people they love. If push came to shove, I'm not quite sure I would have that same bravery. I'm not sure that I can throw myself on top of a proverbial grenade to save the lives of others.

I never want to be in the position to find out, either.

The bathroom door cracks open and steam rolls out like a cloud of smoke billowing around me. The steam fills the room, and it's like a house that catches fire and the smoke threatens to suffocate me but it's not smoke. It's steam. Hot steam.

He pushes the door open even wider and steps out in nothing more than a towel wrapped snug around his trim waist.

I've seen him like this before. I've seen him so many different ways. But I had forgotten how cut his physique is. I had forgotten how his muscles protrude from his chest. I had forgotten that when he is this close to being naked, he looks like a Greek God.

And I am thirsty as hell.

I try to avert my eyes so that I'm looking at anything else but him, but it's too late.

He catches me staring at him and wets his lips first and then bites into them. There's always been an undeniable sexual attraction between the two of us and it’s something that neither of us have ever been able to deny, but is also something we never explicitly talked about. Because it doesn’t need to be talked about. Not when the tension runs this high.

And in the silence of the aftermath of today's events, that attraction is more noticeable than ever before. I can't help but to lock eyes with him again. And there's a silent understanding between the two of us that we both want something more.

He put one foot in front of the other as he makes his way across the short span of the room, and before I know it, he's standing above me with eyes that bore down into my own. It's like he's pulling me inside out with nothing more than a simple glance. It's like he has complete and total power over me and I'm not about to complain.

He swallows with an audible gulp in his throat. It's like he's nervous or something, like he's never been with a woman before but I know that's not true. I know this because we were almost together sexually before and he’s not the kind of man to refrain from the occasional hookup.

It was like we were always waging a constant battle with each other over who was going to seduce the other. It wasn't the typical situation where one person chases the other and the other one runs away. It wasn’t a game of cat and mouse—not in the traditional sense. Instead, it was like we were running towards each other, attracted to each other like opposite ends of a magnet. No matter how hard we tried, we could never make it work. We could never force the pieces into place as we wanted them to fit.

Maybe, just maybe, they will fit into place now.

"Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, but I know why he's looking at me like that. It’s because I'm looking at him the same way too. Looking at him with hungry eyes and a lustful heart. After everything we have been through, after everything we still have to survive, maybe we deserve this moment to ourselves.

He drops his hand down to my wet hair and then combs his fingers through my locks. His touch is enough to send shivers down my spine and make my hairs stand on end. And then he drops his head lower and plants a kiss against my forehead. It's soft and sweet but it almost makes me melt deeper into the bed.

And then he drops his head even lower until he's breathing hot fire against my lips. With one firm hand, he holds me by the cheek as he finally kisses me. His lips are dry but also somehow moist. He kisses me softly, our lips riding the waves of friction.

And as he pushes his tongue past my lips, he also pushes the weight of his body forward. And at his touch, I find myself leaning backwards until I'm lying on my back and he's crawling above me. My hand drops to his waist, guiding him to sink into me deeper. He's between my legs now, and I know that my towel isn't going to stay wrapped much longer. I try to spread my legs wider so that he can comfortably fit between me.

He kisses me once more before dropping his mouth to my neck and planting a trail of kisses down to my collarbone. Meanwhile, one hand skates up the side of my leg. Skates right up underneath my towel until his bare hand is upon my bare flesh. His grip is rough and firm but yet gentle as he guides his hand over the side of my hip and then cups one cheek of my ass.

He holds me firmly in place as he rises so that he can look down at me with dark, hungry eyes. And I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to do this. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to wait. I just want my mind to shut up and the only way that's going to happen is if he finally gives me what I've been wanting all of this time.

I feel my towel loosening from around my body. That's when I take control into my own hands. I push a hand against his muscular chest and hold him still while I squirm out from underneath him. He looks at me with confusion settling in his eyes before I push him backwards so that he’s on his back and his legs are kicked over the edge of the bed.

I kick one foot over his body so that I straddle him. He's hot beneath me while steam still billows out from the small bathroom. And in the small space of the tiny bedroom, there's a very real chance of being suffocated by the hot steam. I look down at him as my fingers caress his chest in slow circles.

From beneath me, he bites into his lip as he watches me. And I began to buck over his groin. My body rocks against his and I can feel his erection growing from underneath the towel. My fingers dig deeper into his chest as I try to steady myself and get a good grip, while I try to keep control.

One of the main things in this life that I’m not good at is losing control. The very thought of it terrifies me. It's why I hide my true face from the world. It's why I am often ice cold in my day-to-day life to both strangers and well-known faces.

For as long as I can remember, people have called me an ice queen. I think they wrongly believe that’s an insult or something, but it’s nothing of the sort. In fact, it's the highest compliment I could ever receive.

But I also know that it's a part of my character flaw. And it’s something I need to work on. While I have no intention of becoming someone else to the entirety of the world, I would like to be able to let down my guard with someone. And maybe that someone will be Zach. After all, he's one of the only people who have ever made me feel anything real. He's one of the only people who has ever made me want to be somebody else.

My towel finally gives way, dropping from around my body and onto him. The soft fabric of the damp towel curls around my ass as I continue to rock my hips over him.

His hands climb to either side of my waist and he holds me with strong hands as I continue to grind my body against his. His fingers dig into my flesh and he groans out in pleasure, needing to be inside of me.

And I need him inside of me just the same.

His teeth sink deeper into his lips as if he's about to draw blood. And his fingers, they go even deeper into my flesh. He finally thrusts upwards in bed so that our lips meet in a fiery explosion of a kiss. One hand climbs to the back of my head and he holds me in place while his tongue slips past my lips and tangles with my own tongue.

He breathes hot and heavy against my mouth, hot fire like a dragon, and I find that my entire body is threatened to be engulfed in an inferno of sinful passion.

Before I can even know what hits me, he’s scooping his hands underneath my bare ass and lifting me into the air. I hang onto him with my hands around the back of his neck as he twists on his feet and then lowers me gently back onto the bed.

It's a small bed so there's not a lot of maneuvering room. It would be difficult to sleep side-by-side in this bed without the person closest to the edge falling off. But we're not cuddling. Not right now. With one hand planted firmly and deep into the mattress on the side of my head, he uses his free hand to release himself from the wet towel around his body. He disposes it on the floor before cupping my hip with one hand as he begins to grind his erection against my leg first and then my wet opening.

I'm torn between staring him down and closing my eyes. I'm torn between the anticipation of what's about to come and enjoying the moments as they occur. I'm torn between so many different things, but right now I just want to be close to him. I just want him inside of me.

Needing to take back control of the situation, I push a hand firmly against his chest, the pressure of my palm forcing him to look at me. "What are you waiting for?"

He breathes heavy, husky and wanting. He swallows nervously. "Are you sure—?”

“Stop talking and just take me,” I cut him off with a hint of a growl. “Please…”

“I've waited so long for this,” he says lowly, wets his lips. “Ever since the moment I first saw you."

"What did I say about talking?" I grind out with gritted teeth and flat lips. "Take me, Zach. Now!"

He doesn't say anything else. He only nods, confirming that he understands exactly what I want him to do. What I need him to do.

He releases my hip from his grip and lowers his hand to stroke the length of his hardness. He drags his open palm against his tongue and then strokes himself a few times more before positioning himself against my opening. And when his eyes lock with mine once more, I offer him a cheeky nod.

That's when he pushes himself inside me and I just about lose all control—and remember, I hate losing control. My hands guide themselves down his strong back. And I hold onto him for dear life as he sinks deeper and deeper into me. He stretches me out wide as he fills me to the hilt. And once he's all the way inside, he holds himself steady.

When my eyes flash back open, he has a hand on either side of my head. And he holds himself still just above me. I can see it written all over his face, I can see that he needs to move. His lips hitch into a wicked, wild grin but his strained muscles defy the look on his face. His arms shake beside me, but it’s not just his arms. He's straining every muscle in his body, fighting the urge to move.

I nod to him once more and then eek out, “Move…”

He does as commanded, pulling back slowly until he's almost all the way outside of me and then he sinks back in painfully slow. He's content to make me wait. Content to tear me inside out with his hardness. Content to make me scream for what it is that I need.

He intends to draw this out for as long as possible because he's waited so long for it. Just the same, I, too, have waited so long for this. And what’s another few minutes in that regard?

With every thrust, my fingers dig deeper into his back. His cheeks flush red as his pace quickens and soon enough he reaches a particular rhythm and then holds that rhythm. It's enough to make my insides quake. It's enough to almost send me over the edge but there’s still something missing. And that thing that's missing is my control of the situation.

Like I said, I'm not used to giving up control. It's not something that's easy for me to do. Because my father taught me that being vulnerable meant being weak, and even though I know that’s not true, it's still something that’s so ingrained in my mind that I'm always fighting to stay in control.

I have no way to fight that urge in the moment.

I need control.

And I need it now.

I push both hands against his chest. My maneuver seems to take him aback. He jerks in place and then his eyes flash down to bore into my eyes. There's a look of confusion painted across his face and I don't blame him. He probably thinks that I want him to stop or to tell him that he's being too rough.

Please.

I push him even harder so that he rolls onto his side first and then his back. That's when I straddle him again, taking back control and empowering myself in the process.

I lower myself back over his long, hard shaft. And as I sink down onto him, my eyes draw closed and my hands hold onto his strong chest. His body is still slick from his shower, and his skin is immeasurably warm, hot even. And that's to say nothing of the way he makes the inside of my body boil.

I begin to rock over him to a steady rhythm, bucking my hips so that I am afforded maximum depth. Over and over again, he slams into the deepest part of me. Over and over again, I'm thrown to the edge of release. And just when I feel I'm about to break, it's like there's another wave to hurdle.

He reaches up and caresses each of my breasts with a strong hand. He bites into his lip as a guttural moan is thrown from his tense and rigid throat.

His moans clash with my own, creating a beautiful symphony of pleasure and pain. For a split second, I worry that Marcus is still here. I worry that he can hear us but I quickly tell myself that it doesn't matter. I have been denied this for so long and I'm not going to allow anything to interfere.

"Shit," he growls out as the muscles in his arms begin to strain even more. Veins bulge at the top of his shoulders as he begins to use his hands to make me rock above him faster and harder and deeper. My fingers dig so deep into his flesh that I'm sure there will be marks. And when I look down at his bare chest, it's confirmed. There are long red scratches all over his chest.

I can't help but to chuckle under my breath but my fit of laughter is short and sweet.

He bucks his hips, thrusts upwards so hard that I almost lose control. I almost lose all my focus and fumble forwards, almost collapse onto his bare chest but I somehow manage to stay upright.

My eyes are completely closed now as I begin to ride the waves of pleasure. It won't be long now until I'm breaking completely around him.

And by the sounds coming from his throat from beneath me, I imagine he's not going to last much longer either. I shift my hands to the back of my head, giving in completely as I continue to ride him. And behind closed eyes, I can't see anything but all of the stars.

I feel his hands glide up my side and then trail to hold me at my back just before he shifts beneath me and then flips me over so that I’m on my back again. He wastes no time as he takes back control, burying himself all the way to the hilt over and over again.

My eyes jerk open as I watch him from above. He pounds into me with a reckless fury, grunting and moaning and so close to screaming. He chews into his lip as if that could ever stop him from screaming out when he finally breaks inside of me.

His mouth drops open as he empties himself inside me, all the while he doesn't stop thrusting. And thank God, because he slams into me once more and that’s when I shatter around him.

My entire body shakes, my toes dig into the sheets at the end of the bed. My hands dig into his back. And if I thought I left marks before, there is probably going to be absolute scars etched into his back as my fingers dig deeper and deeper into his flesh.

He finally stops; he holds himself completely still with his hardness buried as deep inside me as possible. And as he tries to recover from his orgasm, his breathing is jagged and sharp. He seems to choke on his own breath before he collapses on top of me. The weight of his strong body pins me against the bed, pushing me deeper and deeper into the mattress as I come down from my own high.

With one hand, I grab him by the back of the head and pull him into me. His face is twisted sideways as his head lies against my heaving breasts. And his hair is wet with both sweat and shower water, and that’s to say nothing of the slickness that covers our entire bodies.

And though this night hasn't turned out as planned, I can still with absolute certainty say that it ended in the best way it possibly could.

I'm going to embrace the moment. While we're here down in this bunker, just the two of us, I'm going to forget the rest of the world exists, because tomorrow is going to be a big day and we might not live to see another sunset.

If I should die tomorrow, I want to make sure that I lived my life to the fullest. And right now, I feel as if that's true. For the first time in my life, I feel as close as I possibly could to someone. I've never felt closer to anyone in my life.

Not my sister.

Not my mother.

And especially not my father.

Instead, It's Zach. In many ways, it's been Zach since the first time I met him. I comb my fingers through his wet hair and I'm instantly taken back to a time when he didn't really have any hair at all. Back when I first met him, he always wore his hair with a buzz cut. With hair, he looks so much different. But deep inside, he’s still the same Zach that I've always known.

A man of honor. A man of decency. A man capable of changing me for the better.

And I can only hope that should we survive tomorrow that he might be willing to stick around with me. Maybe the two of us can be something together or maybe we can’t. The only way we’re going to find out is if we try.

And for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of trying.